


A Man's Control, A Beasts's Obssession

by Ironkhaleesi



Series: Little Sister!Reader Incest - Marvel/Supernatural/Sherlock/Vikings/The Originals/Game of Thrones/Teen Wolf/King Arthur: Legend of the Sword [22]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Incest, Jealousy, Short!Reader, Smut, plus-size!reader, possessive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 11:27:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15338883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ironkhaleesi/pseuds/Ironkhaleesi
Summary: Since the fire, Derek has struggled with his feelings for his baby sister. But with Peter sniffing around you, his control is beginning to snap.





	A Man's Control, A Beasts's Obssession

Derek Hale had never been a patient man. He got what he wanted. Always and immediately. Life had taught him the hard way that the world was cruel and against him. That he had to fight it if he wanted to live.

Despite this – despite the nightmares he lived – there was one thing life could never harden his heart against.

You.

Being Derek’s baby sister must have been difficult, he could imagine. He knew he was over-protective, over-bearing, just an all-around dick to handle. He wasn’t nice to anyone. He growled at you more often than not. Tried to control every aspect of your life. And yet … you loved him.

Adored him.

You let him do all these things. He’d never known someone to be as patient as you. Maybe that’s what he fell in love with first. The patience you had for his more-than-difficult personality. One thing he knew for sure was that loved you.

Completely.

Erroneously.

Try as he might, he never could squash down those dark thoughts he had about you in the middle of the night. He never could get your scent off his clothes. The ghost of your touch off his skin.

The need to mate you was powerful and boiled his blood. Perhaps that was why he was so damn broody all the time. For once, he’d found something he couldn’t take. And he’d never wanted anything more than he wanted you.

Growing up he’d been the generic, over-protective big brother. Nothing had ever seemed odd about your relationship. And then the fire happened. Then you were all he had left. He dug his claws into you and you submitted without a fight.

That’s where it had started. His obsession with his baby sister.

Fingertips grazed down his naked spine and it felt like his skin was trying to stretch out towards your touch. He abandoned the bacon he was dicing and lifted an arm to glance down at where you’d tucked in behind him. He dropped that arm around you and drew you into his side.

Being a full foot shorter than him and built with soft, plump curves – it stroked the protective instincts of his wolf to see you tucked under his arm like that.

Your hand slipped around to his hip, fingers grazing along the waistband of the sweatpants that hung low on his hips. If he’d been a cat he thought he might’ve fucking purred.

“You’re up early,” he said, voice gruff and quiet. “Did you get enough sleep?”

Head resting against his shoulder, you tilted your face up to look at him. “If I say no, will you force me back into bed.”

His heart stuttered. He knew what you meant, but the image of you naked in his bed flickered through his mind anyway. A growl rumbled in his chest and you smiled. It was the kind of smile that could bring him to his knees.

“Careful, Derek,” you said as you turned your body until you were wedged between him and the bench. “Your wolf is showing.”

He was too distracted by your body pressed against his to bother reeling his wolf back in. But you accepted it, yellow eyes and all, and pushed up onto the tips of your toes. Conscious of the height difference, he let you lean against him for support and tug his head down by the back of his neck. Your lips pressed to the underside of his jaw.

The urge to trap you against the bench and demand a more intimate kiss – a more intimate touch – was borderline debilitating. If he thought it would help, he might have reminded himself that you were his baby sister and therefore forbidden to him in that way. Unfortunately, his wolf didn’t give two shits about the blood you shared. Or, at least, it saw it as more reason to claim you.

The two of you were fundamentally bonded. Something that could never be broken – not even by death. It soothed a deep, broken part of him that feared being abandoned.

You slipped away from him and to the fridge before he could give in to his darkest instincts. Still, his glowing eyes followed you. Just when he thought this would be it – this would be his downfall – Peter’s voice sounded from behind him.

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” The cocky amusement in that voice was like a bucket of cold water over Derek.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and turned when he was sure they were back to that green colour you seemed to love so much. “Not for you,” Derek growled.

Peter flashed him that crooked grin from where he leant, cross-armed, against the entrance. “Wasn’t talking to you, Zazu.”

Peter’s eyes slid back to you and there was no mistaking that glint in his eye. Derek knew what it meant because he felt the same thing when he looked at you. He wished he could have felt disgusted with Peter. Instead, he just felt territorial and possessive over you.

“Morning, Uncle Peter,” you said with a polite smile as you moved back to Derek with a bottle of orange juice.

Derek leaned back against the bench, biceps bunching as he braced his hands against it. His eyes stayed trained on Peter, though his head tilted towards you when you once again used him as a crutch and pulled a glass from the top shelf.

Though there was a moment of noticeable hesitation, Peter’s eyes dropped down to your ass as you reached up. Derek’s chest rumbled once more, this time louder, and his eyes flashed. Peter’s attention flicked to him and Derek saw a moment of uncomfortable, self-doubt in his face before he looked away.

Derek knew the feeling all too well. He might have felt sorry for his uncle if he wasn’t so pissed that the one person he wanted most in the world was being sought after by another. And not just anyone. Family. The only thing he felt he could lose you to.

It was irrational. Derek knew you felt just as distrustful of Peter as he did, but his wolf howled in agony that another could be bonded to you so closely in blood and want to mate you.

Desperate to keep Peter locked out of his close relationship with you, Derek pivoted, keeping one hand on the bench, and moving the other to the opposite side of you. Finally, he had you trapped and guarded against the former alpha at his back.

You leaned into him. Whether consciously or subconsciously, Derek didn’t know, but his wolf didn’t care. It only cared that you wanted to touch him.

“I’ll make you breakfast,” Derek murmured to you as he watched you pour a glass of juice. “Then you’re going back to bed.”

You laughed under your breath. “Always so quick to act like you’re my dad.”

His hands curled into fists on the bench. “Don’t test me, pup.”

You looked up at him, the corner of your mouth curling up. “Or what?”

Whether or not you meant it that way, Derek’s wolf took that as the most sensual of challenges. Had Peter not interrupted again, Derek was sure his weak thread of self-control would have finally snapped.

“Yeah, Derek,” Peter said. “What are you going to do to my darling niece?”

Derek felt like if he growled anymore that morning, he was going to lose his voice. Still, he couldn’t stop it from vibrating through his body. Only the caress of your fingers on his arm soothed his wolf.

“He’s not going to be here much longer,” you murmured.

“He shouldn’t be here at all,” Derek snapped as he turned back to look at Peter. He was now seated at the small, round dining table.

Peter tutted at him with a wag of his finger. “Temper, temper, nephew. Did no one teach you to welcome your guests?”

Breakfast went past at a glacial pace. You ended up making Peter a plate, much to Derek’s chagrin. Of course, Derek almost broke the cutlery, he was that rough with them as he ate. It seemed Peter enjoyed using you to piss off his nephew.

The more agitated Derek became, the more Peter paid particular attention to you. The more he touched you. The more endearments he labelled you with. And the more he did those things, the more agitated Derek became. Around it went. An unholy cycle.

Eventually, Derek snapped. Peter’s hand was wrapped around your wrist. He’d said something to you with that cocky smirk of his, then his eyes dropped down to your breasts and the way the cold air in the room made your nipples strain against your tank top.

It wasn’t even that which caused Derek’s strenuous control to break. It was the way you leaned back from Peter towards him. The way you tried to escape your uncle’s hold. Peter’s touch was unwelcome and that was enough reason for Derek to protect you.

His fists slammed down on the table as he stood. His canines elongated, his eyes glowed. With you seated between the both of them, he was able to crowd his body over you, fists braced on either side of the arm that Peter had reached out towards you.

Derek had half a mind to rip it off as he roared down at his uncle.

Peter’s smile was laced with fear as he let you go and pulled his hand back. “Careful, Derek. Your wolf is showing.”

Your fingers twisted in Derek’s sweatpants. “You should leave, Peter,” you said, peeking through the cage of Derek’s body.

Peter’s eyes flicked between the two of you. For once, he didn’t seem so sure of himself. Derek straightened when his uncle stood from the table. He looked like he might say something, but one look at Derek’s still bared fangs was enough to drive Peter from the house.

When he was gone, you tucked your fingers into Derek’s waistband and tried to tug him closer. He remained immobile, but that part of his pants slid down over his hip bone. He closed his eyes when your fingers, still tucked in the material, pressed against the skin there. His teeth and eyes morphed back to human.

“You have to stop touching me,” he said, his voice barely recognisable, even to himself, as he felt the blood rush into his cock. He was keenly aware that the pants were all that he had on.

“Derek?” He didn’t answer. There was a beat, and he could almost feel the wheels turning in your head. Almost feel you notice the bulge tenting his sweats. “It’s okay,” you finally whispered, and he knew that you knew what he felt for you. How could you not?

“It’s not okay,” he growled. “You’re my baby sister. I’m meant to protect you.” Even from himself.

“You do.” You tugged at his pants again. They didn’t slip this time, and he stayed immobile. “Derek, look at me.”

He didn’t. After a moment, there was a hot breath below his hip, far too close to the one place on him you shouldn’t be touching. Something warm and wet glided along the skin there. His eyes snapped open and he looked down to see your tongue darting out to lick before you kissed him.

He growled out your name and your lashes raised to look up at him, mouth hovering over his flesh. “I love you, Derek,” you said.

You turned in your seat until your body faced his. You tugged again, and this time he let you pull his body towards you. The fingers of your other hand tucked into the waist of his sweats and pulled them down over his other hip bone. They caught at his bulge.

Eyes still locked with his, you leaned forward, and kissed the other side, right between his cock and the middle of his hip bone.

“We can’t,” he forced out through a strangled breath.

“Tell me no,” you said. You kissed him again. Closer. “Tell me to stop.” You kissed right above the base of his cock. It grazed your chin and his hands curled into fists. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

Your nose grazed down the length of him and you pressed a kiss to the head as it strained against the material.

His hand shot forward and fisted in your hair, tilting your head back. His teeth clenched together and his brow furrowed. He tried to force those words out. To tell you to stop.

“I love you, too,” was the only thing that left his lips.

That was all the permission you needed.

You pulled the waistband away from his body and lowered it so he could spring free. Still, he kept your head tilted back to look up at him, his stare remaining locked with yours. As though looking away might make you disappear.

You tried to move your head forward to take him in your mouth but he didn’t let you move. Without question, you moved your hands to him. His muscles tightened when he felt one hand wrap around the base of him and the other cup his balls.

You stroked your hand up, squeezed the head of him, twisted, and stroked back down. His jaw tightened. You did it again. And again. And again. His eyes went hooded as he watched you. Lips parted, breath heavy.

Again, you tried to lean in but he stopped you. Even in this state, he couldn’t fathom degrading you like that. He was meant to take care of you. Make you happy.

“Please, Derek,” you said. “Let me make you feel good.”

He lifted his other hand and rubbed his thumb along your bottom lip. You sucked it into your mouth and he his balls tightened as your tongue swirled around it.

“Stop,” he growled.

You dropped your hands from his body and let him withdraw his thumb. He let go of your hair and didn’t miss the flash of sadness in your eyes when you thought he was backing out.

He couldn’t have that.

He tucked his hands beneath your arms and, in a testament to his strength, lifted you from the chair and onto the table.

He captured your lips in a heated kiss that curled your toes, his tongue sliding against yours before he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth and nipped it. Bumping his nose against yours, he ended the kiss and curled his large hands under your knees.

“It’s my privilege to take care of you,” he said. Then he pulled your thighs open and yanked you to the edge of the table. The heavy weight of him rested against your core, protected only by the thin material of your sleeping shorts.

His fingers twisted in your hair once more. He tilted your head back and pressed his lips to your neck. Tongue swirling against your skin as he nipped his way down to your chest. He slid it between your breasts, leaving a wet trail on your sternum before he shifted lower and sucked your stiff nipple into his mouth through your shirt. His teeth teased and bit it. Tongue laved over it.

One arm wrapped around your waist to keep you from falling back. His other hand pushed up and squeezed your unattended breast. You moaned at the ache in them. Fingers tunnelling through his hair. Nails scraping against his scalp.

You reached down and squeezed his ass, trying to pull him into you so you could get some friction against your centre. Some relief.

He growled against your breast and pulled his face back just enough to yank the neckline of your shirt down. You spilled out of it and he took the naked nipple of your other breast into his mouth. Breasts thrust up by the neck of your shirt, he pressed a hand to your sternum and guided you to lie back.

Your shorts were yanked over your hips and down your legs with a growl and tossed across the kitchen. Derek fitted his hands behind your knees and pushed them up and out. He wondered for a fleeting second if you’d ever been this exposed to anyone before. His wolf almost tore its way out of his throat in rejection of that thought.

Your core was flushed and swollen. Ready, waiting and open for him. He groaned at the scent when he nudged his nose through your folds. Growled at the taste when he pushed his tongue into you.

You cussed and moaned as he fucked you with his tongue. Fingers twisting in his hair. When your hips started to roll, he moved up to suck your clit into his mouth. Yellow eyes looked up through his thick lashes, locked with yours when you pushed up onto one of your elbows.

“Derek,” you moaned. He growled against your clit, his tongue swirling around the swollen nub as his lips sucked it harder into his mouth. “Fuck. You’re going to make me cum.”

He moved one hand to press down on your abdomen. With the other, he pushed to fingers deep into your wet entrance.

“Yeeeeess,” you groaned, head falling back as he curled his fingers up and hammered them into you.

You begged and pleaded. Fell back to the table. Clawed at him. And when that orgasm tore through you, he didn’t stop. Even when your thighs clamped around his head and you tried to push him away, he didn’t stop.

He sucked harder at your clit. Fucked you faster with his fingers. Your hips bucked but you couldn’t free your sensitive cunt of his ministrations. He knew what he wanted from you. And he knew how to get it. His bicep burned with the effort but he kept fucking you anyway, desperate to feel you clamp down on him again and soak him.

Finally, your thighs fell open and you clawed him closer again. “Fuck. Fuck. Derek. Yes. Please,” you chanted. He wondered if you knew what you were begging for.

Your walls tightened and you gushed into the palm of his hand. Squirted over his chin and neck. He groaned as it dripped down his chest. Within seconds, he withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his tongue. Pushing deep and fucking you with it as he moved a thumb up to caress your throbbing, sensitive clit.

Your body jolted beneath him, but he didn’t stop until he’d well and truly cleaned you up and drunk down everything your body could give.

Lax and pliant was your body when he made his way back up it with gentle kisses. He rolled his tongue over your breasts. Grazed his stubble over your nipples. Then he pushed his tongue into your mouth for a long, languid kiss before pulling up and locking his eyes with your hooded ones. The pupils blown.

You were too weak to do anything but lay there as he braced himself on his forearms and pushed his cock into you, right to the hilt. Your eyes glowed yellow at the feel of him filling and stretching you. Pushing your body to its limits as it continued to convulse from the pleasure he’d just forced upon it.

His brows turned up as he let out a moan. You were hot and tight around him. Your walls engorged with blood. He whined your name as he drew back and pushed into you again. Shaft coated in your juices. Balls pressed against your ass. You mewled for him, nails digging into his flesh as you tried to push him in tighter, well past the limits of your body.

He shifted his weight to his elbows and slid his hands under your shoulders to grip the tops of them and stop you from slipping up the table. He adjusted his stance, rolled his hips back – hissing at the drag of nails against his ass – and slammed back into you.

You cried out. He did it again, pulling down on your shoulders to keep every thrust as deep as he could go.

Foreheads pressed together, growls rumbling up from his throat. He fucked you so hard he thought the table might break beneath you both.

Your knees pressed to his ribs when you drew your hands up to cup his face. You chanted his name, then your eyes rolled into the back of your head – lids fluttering closed. His wolf roared through him as your cunt clamped down around his cock.

He felt your juices gush over his balls and abdomen. His teeth sank into your neck. His moans were high and desperate as his cock pulsed inside you and shot ropes of cum along your walls.

It was a long while before either of you moved. His face buried in your neck. Cock lodged deep inside you. Body curved over yours and shaking.

When your fingers tunnelled through his hair, he finally lifted his head to look down at you. His cheeks felt wet but he didn’t remember crying.

“What’s wrong with us?” he whispered as you brushed his tears away.

You shook your head. “Nothing. We’re meant for each other.”

You pulled him down for a kiss and he groaned against your lips as he pulled out of you so he could flatten himself against your body.

It was the first time in years that he felt calm and content.


End file.
